


How to spoon

by Trekiael



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Fluff, Humor, M/M, Pointless
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-13
Updated: 2014-04-13
Packaged: 2018-01-19 05:47:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1458076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trekiael/pseuds/Trekiael
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean is freezing his balls off in a motel room until Cas shows up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	How to spoon

**Author's Note:**

> There's absolutely no point to it beside fluff and Destiel and heart to heart discussions.
> 
> Oh and I have no idea when that takes place in canon timeframe. Wherever you want it to, I guess.

Dean is cold. Not “oh dang, I need a little bit more blanket”. No. It's more like “fuck this fucking shit my balls are gonna fall off if I don't get just a little bit more fucking warmth god fucking dammit this idea sucks.” Because Dean thought it would be a good fucking idea to crash in the first motel he could find which happened to have no fucking heater and there's about 50 feet of snow outside. Give or take.

 

He's exhausted. He really needs to sleep before he can take the road again. But his teeth are shattering so loudly he's damn sure the happy couple fucking three rooms down the hall (yeah, he can definitely hear them) is being disturbed by it. Or maybe not, because these lucky bastards are keeping warm together when he's there alone and about to die from hypotermia.

 

“I swear, somehow, that's all your fault, Cas.”

 

“I fail to see how.”

 

Dean doesn't even starts. After all these years, maybe he's used to it. Or maybe he's already too tense to begin with. So he just peeks at the angel standing in the room by his bed and glares at him. Of fucking course Cas is not affected by the cold, still dressed in his stupid suit and trench combo. Cas ignores his glare and looks at him with a frown.

 

“You're cold.”

 

“No shit Sherlock.”

 

Cas, of fucking course, doesn't get it and frowns. He opens his mouth to comment on it, probably, but apparently thinks better of it and closes it again. He steps closer and without thinking twice sticks his hand under the blanket to touch Dean's neck. Dean's eyes widen.

 

“What are you... Of fuck that feels good.”

 

Apparently you learn shit everyday because he certainly didn't know that little fact about angels being living heaters. His eyes close in bliss as warmth spreads from where Cas' hand is pressed into his skin, making him shiver. It's not enough, too localized, but it's still so fucking magical he can't help the little sigh that escapes his lips.

 

When he opens his eyes, Cas is staring at him intensely. He takes his hand back and the warmth leaves like it was never there in the first place. Dean groans in protest.

 

“You fucking tease.”

 

Cas doesn't even react and instead circles the bed until he's on the other side. Dean glances over his shoulder, one eyebrow raised but not speaking because Cas being weird is nothing new. Except that both eyebrows shoot up when he sees Cas unceremoniously taking off his coat and tie, dropping them on the chair close to the bed.

 

“Cas, I know you're an angel and all, but when it's like minus 2000 outside, people generally get dressed, don't offer free strip teases for their freezing friends.”

 

Cas rolls his eyes, something Dean perfectly well knows he picked from him, and steps directly on the bed.

 

“For one thing, it's not minus 2000. Not even Hell is that cold, as you perfectly well know.”

 

Dean's flat look is all Cas earns for answer. He should be able to perfectly read the 'thanks for that one, dick'.

 

“Secondly, angels don't feel cold in the way humans do, and I am merely making myself more comfortable to help my freezing friend.”

 

That said, he promptly pulls on the blanket, unrolling the human burrito Dean and making him yelp. Before Dean can protest, though, Cas is sliding under the blanket and taking him in his arms, back to chest. This time the warmth is complete and a fucking bliss, but Dean is now fully tense for different reason.

 

“Hum, Cas? I don't really do the little spoon thing...”

 

Cas' breath is warm against the back of his neck, and his arm strong around his waist, his long fingers directly over Dean's pounding heart. He feels him huff softly behind him.

 

“I don't understand that reference.”

 

Dean laughs, even if it's a little strained and shifts, shoulders rolling.

 

“Well, you know how spoons are put in a drawer in a way that they all fit one in the other and, yeah... that's spooning.”

 

A pause.

 

“That doesn't make sense. As far as I know, spoons are organized by size. Big spoons are together and little spoons together as well. Big spoons aren't put with the little ones.”

 

There's... Really no answer to that, because it's a fair point. Still, that's not _the_ point.

 

“I mean I don't need you to pamper me, Cas. I don't...”

 

He doesn't know how to talk about these things. Thankfully, he doesn't have to because Cas knows him well enough to understand what he means.

 

“You mean you don't like to be protected. You prefer to be the one doing the protection. You are more at ease in the position of the one overlooking things, the leader, the guardian.”

 

Dean doesn't have anything to say to that, so he only nods, once. Cas sighs.

 

“Dean. You are an insufferable idiot.”

 

“Hey!”

 

Dean hears Cas chuckle softly behind him and tighten his grip a little. There's a pause and when Cas continues, he's more subded and his voice softer.

 

“Dean... I want to protect you. While you protect the rest of the world. I want to be your strength, the one you can rely on. You don't have to be strong around me, it won't change how I feel about you. I know your soul, I know how brave and strong and capable you are. You are the Righteous man, and a true warrior.”

 

Dean doesn't answer, only swallows thickly. He wants to protest, to tell Cas that he wants to protect him, too, even if Cas is an angel and infinitely stronger than him in every aspect of the word, because there's a fragility in the angel, and his heart is too pure. But the words can't get out, so Cas continues.

 

“I'm not challenging your authority, Dean. When I said that I didn't serve you, you know I wasn't being perfecty honest. I chose you, Dean, over everything else. I... made some mistakes. I have not always followed your lead. But I've always taken to heart everything you told me. And I've decided to follow you, now, and I suppose that means that I will do what you want of me, as long as I can be of use to you...”

 

Obviously Cas doesn't know how to express himself well either, and that makes Dean smile a little. It doesn't matter. Dean gets it. It's a bit scary, how much Cas values his opinion, but it still makes him feel warm and humbled. Because Cas, that powerful, old as dirt being, trusts him. And is not trying to use is strength to overpower him. Dean hates losing grasp on control. Feels more comfortable in the position of authority. And Cas knows that. It's all he needs.

 

“Thanks, Cas.”

 

He feels like he needs to say more, to do more. Protest against the fact that he doesn't need Cas because he's useful. But he doesn't know what, and how, and all he can do is cover Cas' hand with his own and squeeze. Just once. But when he's about to take his hand back, Cas' long, slender fingers tangle with his and curl until their hands are slotted together in a double fist over Dean's heart. It's freaking intimate, and Dean's heart skips a few beats. Cas, of course, doesn't know any better. Dean doesn't have the heart to tell him that friends don't do that. Who cares anyway. He's too tired to give a fuck, and no one has to know.

 

He falls asleep shortly after, unexpectedly, in a peaceful sleep.

 

He wakes up the next morning completely curled around Cas' own body. His head is pressed into Cas' neck, his knees slotted behind Cas' own. One of his arm is under Cas' neck and wrapped around his shoulders, the other almost completely circling Cas' waist. He's also hard and pressing against Cas' ass.

 

Right. Time to get up, and fast.

 

He scrambles out of bed, almost falling straight on his face in his hurry. Cas sits up, completely unfazed. Of course he didn't sleep. How could he let something like that happen? Dean glares a little, but Cas only tilts his head slightly to the side. His shirt is strangely open all the way to his stomach and Dean seriously hopes that he's not the one responsible for that.

 

He turns on his heels, face hot, and without thinking walks to the door. In retrospect maybe he should have checked through the window first. Maybe then he could have avoided the avalanche that crashes straight on him as soon as the door opens. He stands there for a moment, covered from head to toe in snow, looking at the great white wall in front of him.

 

He hears a snort behind him and slowly turns around seeing Cas sitting there with a hand slapped over his mouth, obviously containing his laughter. Dean's eyes narrow.

 

“You couldn't have warned me, you dick?”

 

Cas shakes his head and snorts again. Dean slams the door and walks to the window, peeling the curtain aside to look outside. There's snow almost all the way up, but he can still see a slice of light from on top of it. Every fucking thing is covered. Suddenly, his eyes widen and he gasps, turning around.

 

“Baby is out there!?! Under...that!”

 

He looks outside again, trying to find her, but there's so much snow he can't even see her roof. Cas tilts his head to the side then shrugs. He stands up, uncaring about his mostly exposed chest and messy hair, and Dean's eyes definitely don't drift down.

 

“I didn't notice, to be honest.”

 

He stops beside Dean and looks outside.

 

“I suppose we should stay in for today.”

 

His tone is casual enough, but Dean hears the message loud and clear. Cas could definitely teleport all three of them, Baby included, out of there. But he's suggesting that Dean and him stay indoor, together. Keeping warm.

 

Dean's heart is pounding. It's up to him. He could ignore the invitation or take it. Cas probably wouldn't blink at either. Dean is thankfully saved from making an immediate decision as his phone rings. He answers without taking his eyes off Cas who turns to look at him, eyes intense.

 

“Hey Sammy! ...Yeah, at a motel. ...Yeah, taken care of.... When? Well...”

 

He licks his lips, take in Cas' dishevelled appearance, and before his nerves can leave him, answers.

 

“Not today. I'm snowed in.... Yeah, I'll keep you informed. Bye.”

 

He ends the call before Sam can add anything because Cas is looking at him with a small half smile and his eyelids lowered and Dean realizes that he should have done that ages ago. His phone is abandoned as his hand finds its way to Cas' mostly bare chest. His other hand curls around Cas' neck and pulls him forward. Right before their lips connect in a crash born out of years of desperation, Dean has one single last stupid thought.

 

The lovely couple three rooms down better cover their ears because there's about to get some serious warming going to happen in this room too.

 


End file.
